


Lydia Gets Lost

by Virtuella



Category: Discworld, Pride and Prejudice
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-19
Updated: 2010-10-19
Packaged: 2017-10-12 18:41:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/127879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Virtuella/pseuds/Virtuella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stepping into and out of a Wandering Shop sees Lydia stranded in Ankh-Morpork.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lydia Gets Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Discworld belongs to Terry Pratchett. Jane Austen is out of copyright.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that Miss Lydia Bennet could walk past a milliner’s shop without looking no more than she could attend an assembly without making a spectacle of herself. Her delight was as great as her surprise therefore when she perceived that a hitherto unknown shop on the high street of Meryton displayed a thrilling assortment of bonnets. She wondered briefly how an entirely new building could have been erected in the five or six days since she’d last been in the town, but this thought occupied her mind not even as long as the impatient reflection that her sisters were still across the road talking to that tedious Charlotte Lucas. Boldly she opened the door and walked in.

Inside, the shop looked a lot less attractive. The light was dim and the merchandise dusty. There _were_ some bonnets on display, but on closer examination none of them excited Lydia’s interest. As for the rest – what would anyone want with a lidless copper pot or a stuffed badger? It was all just so much rubbish. And why was there no proprietor? Lydia spied a service bell on the counter and rang it impatiently. A strange rumbling noise accompanied the tinkling of the bell. From the  back of the shop, through a bead curtain in a doorway, bustled in a little old lady. When she saw Lydia, she clapped both hands over her mouth.

“Oh dear,” she exclaimed. “I’ve done it again. I really, really must make sure that there are no customers in before I move shop. Just wait a second, love, and I’ll take you right back.”

She disappeared again through the bead curtain.

Lydia was never one to do as she was told, and since neither the merchandise nor the strange behaviour of the old biddy had met with her approval, she hurried out through the front door. She couldn’t help noticing that it was not the high street of Meryton that she set foot on. While the houses were not entirely unlike, the filth and the smell, nay, _stench_ did not belong to that picturesque town. Lydia looked down the grubby street in puzzlement.

“Good morning!” boomed a cheerful voice to her right. She looked round.

“I am Captain Carrot Ironfoundersson. Can I help you, Miss?”

Even Lydia could not behold Captain Carrot of the Ankh-Morpork City Watch without being momentarily rendered speechless. The young man rose, nay, _towered_ at a clear height of well over six foot and displayed such broad shoulders, such muscular arms that she immediately felt weak in the knees. Fortunately this inconvenience lasted only a fleeting moment. Then Lydia cast a look into the man’s gleaming breastplate to reassure herself of her captivating looks. She gave him her most winning smile.

“Oh, Captain,” she trilled. “I am Lydia Bennet and I am simply _delighted_ to make your acquaintance. There’s nothing like a man in uniform, I always say. But I see we’re in quite a lively little place here. Would you be so kind as to show me around?” She put her arm through his and began pulling him along the pavement. “And then you _must_ tell me about you, Captain. Do you like to dance? Oh, I am sure you are a capital dancer. If only we could have a dance now!”

“You are not from Ankh-Morpork,” said the captain with a cautious glance at the girl. “I can tell by the way you are attired.”

Lydia was momentarily worried by the name of the place, but since thinking was something her brain only ever did as a sideline, she continued cheerfully:  “I am from Longbourne, and mightily tedious it can be there. Even in Meryton it is quite a sensation for a new shop to open. Mind you, it wasn’t a very great shop after all...”

Captain Ironfoundersson looked back over his shoulder. Suddenly he held his step and stood with the inertia of a mountain range, almost causing Lydia to lose her balance as her arm slipped out of his.

“Which shop is it exactly that you mean, Miss Bennet?” he asked.

“Oh, just that little milliner’s shop over there. Oh, it is gone! What a fine joke!”

The captain’s face was suddenly grave with concern. “I believe you might be in serious difficulties, Miss Bennet.”

Lydia giggled.

“I am sure, Captain, that no harm can come to me while I am in your capable hands. Will you introduce me to the other officers in your regiment?”

“Yes, will you introduce her, please?” said  a guttural voice. It belonged to a figure that had suddenly appeared beside them. Lydia turned towards the voice, ready to chatter on, but stopped when she took in the newcomer’s appearance. She was well aware that not all men were tall and muscular, but there was no mistaking the mane of blonde hair that flowed out from under the helmet, and then there was the shape of the breastplate...

“Of course,” said the captain quickly. “Miss Bennet, please meet Sergeant Angua of the Ankh-Morpork City Watch. Angua, I am afraid Miss Bennet might have had a little accident and it looks like she is stranded here.”

“I have every confidence, Captain, that you will do all in your power to protect me,” cooed Lydia and put a possessive hand onto the man’s arm. Sergeant Angua stepped closer. She smiled broadly at Lydia. Her canines seemed longer than reasonable and when she pointedly lifted the offending hand off Carrot’s arm, Lydia saw that her fingernails were particularly long and strong.

“He,” said Sergeant Angua in what could only be described as a growl, “is mine. Please understand that I can be very territorial. Most people don’t like it when I get ... cross.”

“Angua, please –“ began the captain.

“Don’t worry.” Angua kept smiling and if anything her canines seemed even longer. “Welcome to Ankh-Morpork, Miss Benett. I hope you will feel at home here. I don’t think you have much choice.”

 


End file.
